Forgiveness and Reconciliation in Buckeye

Thematic Claim

In Buckeye, Patrick Ryan presents forgiveness not as a single climactic act but as a long, uneven journey that requires time, humility, and the willingness to sit with unresolved pain. Reconciliation is possible, but it rarely restores what was lost—it builds a new foundation on the rubble of the old. The novel argues that the most profound forgiveness happens when characters accept that understanding may never come, and that the work of rebuilding trust is more important than waiting for a perfect apology.

Forgiveness as a Creeping Vine: Cal and Becky

The central relationship in the novel—Cal and Becky’s marriage—illustrates that forgiveness cannot be rushed. After Cal’s affair with Margaret Salt, the couple separates for nearly two years. Becky’s mother Ida offers a crucial metaphor: “The whole reason you build a bridge together is so the water can run under it, right? And not wash the two of you away?” Ida’s advice frames forgiveness as a collaborative structure that must be built intentionally, not as a feeling that suddenly arrives.

Becky herself wrestles with the burden of being the forgiver. She reflects that “forgiveness wasn’t so great if you were the forgiver. Forgiveness was supposed to be the high road, but it was low and bumpy—and long.” This acknowledgment captures the emotional labor that reconciliation demands. Cal’s repeated apologies mean nothing to her until he demonstrates change over time. She tells him bluntly that “those two words, ‘I’m sorry,’ were very easy to say and literally changed nothing.”

The turning point comes gradually. When Cal joins her on the couch after months of sitting apart, and when they eventually allow him to stay the night, the reconciliation is tentative. They do not skip past the betrayal; they choose to move forward despite it. The novel emphasizes that trust is rebuilt through small, consistent acts—showing up for dinner, making tea, sitting together—not through grand gestures.

The Weight of Deferred Truth: Felix and Tom

Felix Salt’s decision to tell Tom the truth about his biological father, Cal Jenkins, is an act of reconciliation that comes too late to spare Tom pain. The timing of the confession—after Tom dodges the Vietnam draft—shows how Felix tries to protect his son, but the decades of deception create a wound that no single revelation can heal. Tom’s immediate reaction is a kind of numbness: the conversation becomes a blur, “one big, horrible thud.” He feels “like a conspiracy” has been committed against him.

Tom’s anger is entirely justified, and the novel does not minimize it. He drives away from Toledo and gradually cuts off contact. He recognizes the painful irony that his father and the Jenkinses “can’t live with themselves until they hear from him that he’s okay with all this.” Tom refuses to provide that absolution. The narrative respects his need to hold onto his hurt. Reconciliation here is not instant; it is withheld for years, until Felix’s terminal illness and eventual death create the conditions for Tom to return. Even then, Tom calls Felix “Dad” and says he loves him, but he does not give the “thumbs-up” they so desperately want. The novel suggests that some reconciliations remain incomplete, and that is acceptable.

The Impossible Apology: Tom and Margaret

The most emotionally charged reconciliation in the novel occurs after Felix’s funeral, when Tom meets his biological mother Margaret for the first time as an adult. Margaret arrives late, having abandoned Tom when he was a child. She offers a blanket apology: “I am sorry about everything.” Tom is initially furious, telling her, “You didn’t say goodbye. You said completely nothing, ever.”

But Margaret then reveals that she too was abandoned as a baby, raised in an orphanage. She has repeated the pattern of her own mother’s abandonment—a cycle she only now understands. Tom’s reaction is unexpected. He rushes toward her, throws his arms around her, and says “what might have been ‘I forgive you’ or even ‘I love you.’” The ambiguity of that moment is crucial. The narrative refuses to clarify whether forgiveness is actually spoken. What matters is the physical gesture, the willingness to embrace despite the impossibility of undoing the past. This scene demonstrates that reconciliation can manifest as a single act of contact, even without full understanding or closure.

Symbolic Anchors

The buckeye tree stands as a silent witness to the Jenkins home. It grows in the yard where Cal and Becky rebuild their marriage. The tree’s longevity and rootedness mirror the slow process of forgiveness—growth that cannot be forced.

The séance parlor functions as a liminal space where characters confront emotional truths they cannot otherwise face. When Becky fabricates a message from Everett’s dead wife Dora, she commits a compassionate lie that brings him peace. The parlor becomes a site for imperfect but genuine healing—a microcosm of the novel’s view that forgiveness often requires bending the truth to meet a deeper emotional need.

Complexity and Contradiction

Buckeye resists sentimentalizing forgiveness. Becky’s mother Ida stayed with Roman despite his infidelity, yet she also kept her own secrets—the blond hairs on his shirt, the lipstick on his neck. The novel shows that marriage and family survival often depend on strategically withheld knowledge. Forgiveness is not the same as forgetting, and reconciliation does not require full disclosure.

Tom’s arc illustrates the most painful paradox: he understands rationally that his father and the Jenkinses acted out of love, but that understanding does not erase his anger. The narrative acknowledges that “nothing is quite as maddening as being angry at people who lovingly understand your anger.” The work of reconciliation, then, is not about eliminating anger but about making space for it alongside love.

Even in the final chapter, as Cal and Becky revisit Huron and hear Skip’s spirit deliver a message of love and forgiveness, the novel grounds this spiritual moment in concrete actions: Cal gives Becky the letter she wrote to herself at age eight. The letter is a tangible symbol of a promise kept across decades—a small but powerful act of fidelity that completes their long arc of reconciliation.

Study Questions

1. How does the novel distinguish between forgiveness based on understanding and forgiveness based on action? Use evidence from Cal and Becky’s relationship.

Becky initially tries to understand why Cal had the affair, searching for an explanation. She ultimately concludes that “she was looking for understanding where there was none to be found.” Her mother Ida’s advice—to build a bridge so the water can run under it—shifts the emphasis from intellectual comprehension to practical cooperation. Forgiveness becomes a choice to stay together and rebuild trust through daily actions, not a reward for a satisfying explanation.

2. Why does Tom refuse to give his father and the Jenkinses the “all’s-well thumbs-up” they want from him? What does this refusal reveal about reconciliation?

Tom recognizes that his father and the Jenkinses are asking for absolution to ease their own guilt, not for his genuine healing. The narrative states they “can’t live with themselves until they hear from him that he’s okay with all this.” Tom’s refusal to hand over that reassurance shows that reconciliation cannot be demanded or performed; it must be genuinely felt. The novel respects that legitimate anger cannot be negotiated away.

3. Compare Ida’s approach to forgiveness with Becky’s. How do their different circumstances shape their perspectives?

Ida stayed with Roman despite his unfaithfulness, and she jokes about calling him an “asshole” to his face. She advocates staying together because “He was always going to be the one I gave it a go with.” Becky, however, is the one who was betrayed, and she experiences forgiveness as “low and bumpy—and long.” Ida’s perspective comes from decades of hindsight; Becky’s comes from fresh hurt. The novel shows that forgiveness looks different depending on which side of the betrayal one stands.

4. What role does the séance parlor play in the theme of reconciliation? How does Becky’s lie to Everett complicate the idea of truth in forgiveness?

When Becky cannot find the spirits of Everett’s dead wife and children, she invents a comforting message: Dora is looking forward to seeing him, and they all hope it’s not anytime soon. This lie brings Everett enormous relief. The novel suggests that sometimes emotional truth—what a person needs to hear to find peace—matters more than factual accuracy. Reconciliation may require bending the truth to meet a deeper need, especially when the literal truth offers no comfort.

5. In what way is Margaret’s apology to Tom “too late,” and in what way does it still matter? How does the novel balance the impossibility of fixing the past with the necessity of trying?

Margaret shows up after Felix’s funeral, decades after abandoning Tom. Tom tells her twice “you’re too late.” Yet in the same scene, he rushes to embrace her. The apology itself cannot undo the years of absence, but the act of showing up and confessing her own abandonment allows Tom to see her as a flawed human rather than a villain. The novel holds both truths: the past is irrevocably broken, but the willingness to reach toward another person, even belatedly, retains the power to transform.